October-Harvest: A QB Parallax

A Story by Abishai100

A retirement-view of harvest-season football 'universe' Americans yields a condition of darkness in a purchased farm-land barn with a chased woman made by a specter of thickness.

An American spook-tale.

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SHELBYE: You want us to retire from our American field football positions to manage a dairy/farm?

AMLAN: I've made $15M on Wall-St. and can afford this retreat for just our trio of patriots.

MARCUS: I guess this is some patriot-line for October-season harvest-like decisions of the Ego!

SHELBYE: Wow, money changes all (even football!).

AMLAN: Good (Facebook-like).

Amlan and Shelbye and Marcus, three friends of football fields in the American Homeland, decided to whisk-away to a retirement view of post-coaching life to become special farm/dairy managers and enjoy the Earthling sunset of wrought cleats for comforts, and they thought honestly-now it'd be Facebook-like, but they were about to face a face of pure-darkness challenging their homely/patriot view for social media 'friendly' living/nets (for leviathan).

One dark but gorgeous starry night in the barn they purchased which they intended to restore/refurbish but were (now) simply enjoying as a campfire sausage-cook hot-plate Saturday's Eve in '24, a media-society figure, an American lady, knocked furiously on their barn-door, noticing there was a light lit inside. Amlan had to wonder if it was some art or prank for October (Halloween?).

WOMAN: Goodness me, you three have to aid me now.

AMLAN: What's your story?
WOMAN: What're you doing in this shaky barn, man?

AMLAN: I used to be a QB, and then coach; we retired to refurbish a dairy/farm land.

WOMAN: You must help me, man...there's this 'Scarecrow' in a truck chasing me (in my car!).

AMLAN: You sped-away, because your sports-car is fast-enough and saw the light in our barn.

WOMAN: Can you hide me in here (we can turn the lights out and he'll drive by).

AMLAN: Thinking it's an abandoned barn; good for cinema (ha).

This Scarecrow was a real beast. He was the nature of the beast (wow). He was in an eerie mask, and it was Halloween, and he had a tie on, driving an eerie truck, chasing this media-society lady who'd been cross-country driving for the fun of it; the Scarecrow chased the woman to the barn where Amlan/Shelbye/Marcus were enjoying an October harvest-season campfire song. Amlan knew she wasn't making a prank of drunken claim now. She showed them a photo of the truck she took with her smartphone while speeding away from it during the afternoon (wow). This wasn't Facebook-like (sure).

AMLAN: "What does he want; is this the Devil destroying some Earthling image (Halloween)? I have to think this is raw-Hell, pals. We'll shield the good-lady here with the lights off. If this Scarecrow appears in his truck and suit-and-tie, I'll make some kind of fire-weapon with our kerosene. What's he got that we do not (for the Ego)?"

This is a scary tale of an American Tragedy. The Scarecrow did appear, and he rammed into the barn in his truck, psychically sensing the woman he chased was hiding inside (with Amlan/Shelbye/Marcus). Amlan used his fire-weapon to burn the beastly man of Hellmouth(s), but the eerie masked-man fired his antique crossbow arrow right into Amlan's chest before he himself was burned to death inside that magical barn (Facebook-like?).

Shelbye cheered the miracle and mourned the great October tragedy upon returning from the farm-barn with some world-fare reflection (Indian) luchi-bread thanksgiving diner-plate chat(s) in Boston-town, thinking deeply-now of those incomplete-distances readings of the leviathan/uncertainty of Earth-fields ghosts (for the mortal thoughts). Was the Scarecrow deconstructionist (for diner-chat)?